Only time may tell
by Night Owl Ophelia
Summary: Reflections of their last summer together haunt and threaten the relationships of various couples. All linked together by blackmail, seduction, lies . . . and marriage counseling. Warning:YaoiYuri rated M
1. Enter One side

**Only time may tell**

By Night Owl Ophelia

****

**_Disclaimer - Shaman King is not mine. Courtesy of Hiroyuki Takei and Shonen Jump_**

* * *

"Shut that thing off or I'll do it myself." 

". . . Why don't you?"

"Oh . . . you don't want me to."

Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared at the noisy alarm clock on the night table. It was given as a "wedding" present and the last thing he wanted was for his mate to destroy it.

Picking up the tiny mechanism, he was already lost in a sea of memory. Vibrating in his hand, the clock shaped like a loving couple kissing in the sunset took him back to four whole years ago. On his "wedding" day, everyone who wanted to "celebrate" was present. It wouldn't have been much of anything if his friends weren't present. Hardly Any one besides attended. Save his "husband's"

It was very short, very simple and to the point. He had barely uttered "yes" the previous night and was whisked down the isle the very next morning, if you can call the crevice midst the tiny church and isle.

Through memory he remembered his husband's painful stronghold around his waist the entire evening. There was no escape, and nothing said to him escaped his new lover's ears. It was his way, he realized later, of letting me know I really am his forever.

"Lyserg,"

A cold hand to his back interrupted his flow of memory. The night had been cold.

"Shut that thing _off_."

Slowly, Lyserg twisted the dial in the back of the clock and was now fully awake thanks to his lover's ice cold fingers. How were they that cold? The night was cold. He told himself.

"I'm replacing that ugly thing today . . . remind me."

"No. . . It was-"

"A gift? Lyserg we've been through this, and I'm either throwing it out, or you can keep it in your study, Out of my ears, and out of my way, understood?"

They _had_ been through this before, and Lyserg had always said, Yes sir, no sir, or more than once tried to butter him up and entice him with his body, but neither of those worked anymore. Nothing he ever thought worked anymore. He couldn't even remember the first time it did.

And now, after four plus years, he was tired.

"No."

"What?"

"I don't understand. . . Honey you can't get another clock." Lyserg flinched as his lover raised an eyebrow.

"I can't?"

"Listen. . ." _Damn it! I said honey! It's cause I called him honey! _"Dar-"

"No, I said it's final. Now are you going to start an argument over something as simple as a clock? I shall replace it Lyserg, and you'll find the new tune more relaxing."

Now it was Lyserg's time to raise an eyebrow. "Honey, a relaxing tune is not going to wake you up. That's what _alarm_ clocks are for." No sooner than he said alarm did his husband snatch him round' the waist, lay him down on their bed, and straddle him between his knees. His eyes glared down from above and a sudden wave of helplessness swept over Lyserg. A wave that passed so many times before.

"Marco… no-"

"Listen," he realized for the first time that his arms were being held down painfully by the wrists and his husbands grip was tightening with each word that escaped his mouth. "There will be no more talk of this clock from you, Lyserg." His eyes narrowed menacingly. ". . . Or I swear on this months rent I'll skip work and keep you busy all day."

A small smile split Lyserg's face as he realized he was completely naked except for his boxers,

"Yes sir."

* * *

Breakfast that morning was simple, a slice of toast with butter, and a cup off tea made from the same bag left to dry from yesterday. Only because Marco was obsessed with making food bought for the month, really lasting a month, and that means visitors were usually affected as well. 

"You wanted a can of soda? Sure, but only one!" Chicken wings, Lyserg! Count out five each!" And so on. Lyserg could have easily used an entire tea bag one day at a time and kept it secret from his husband. That is if he had not been obsessed enough to count every single tea bag every single day.

"I just knew you'd try this Lyserg." He had said when he had stopped counting for a few days, "I just thought I could trust you to listen on your own, but no." All Lyserg could do was stand there, pout and roll his eyes. He had already used the tea party excuse once. It only worked once because soon Marco realized he didn't like parties.

So all he could ever really do was endure his husband's endless lectures and continuously say "Yes sir." And "No sir." And "I'm sorry, it won't happen again." And occasionally end up taking him to bed just to get him to feel better about the whole thing. And what's funny was that that often put him in a good mood. And when Marco was in a good mood, there was almost no need for him to pay attention to Lyserg's behavior because he'd be too busy doing something he liked (That didn't involve Lyserg at all) and when Marco didn't pay any attention to Lyserg, he was free to use as many tea bags (and other foods) as he wanted.

But on this particular day, and at this particular time, Lyserg made a mistake. And did not realize until his lover called from the kitchen where he had just set the table.

"Lyserg, what is this?"

At that moment in time, as Lyserg decided at the last minute he'd fold bed sheets and pack the linen closet before eating, not one, but two fresh slices of toast popped out of the toaster oven, and Marco had entered the kitchen just In time to witness this. Lyserg leaned against the door frame and watched him tower over the toaster as if daring it to spit anything else. "It's Breakfast Marco." He said.

":Don't get smart with me Lyserg." Marco warned, turning to face him. "Explain."

"Explain what, what's for breakfast? Toast and – "

"Humph."

"Okay, so those two slices are both for you, Marco. I'm only going to have one. Happy?" Marco removed the bread from the toaster and placed one of the slices back into the bread box.

"Oh come on-"

"Lyserg, we have already been through this!"

"Damn it Marco! Can't you eat something for once? You're starving for no reason!"

Lyserg thought for a moment as his husband did not respond and buttered the toast as if it were a flimsy cracker. He wouldn't argue if he didn't want much butter, but he knew Marco would eat more if he weren't so up tight about almost everything.

"Marco If you do not eat, I. . . "He slowly crept up behind his lover and would have put his arms around him if he had not turned around at that time. But at least he didn't have to stop talking. But just then he forgot what he was going to say and just felt stupid.

"I _am _eating Lyserg." Marco sniffed. "And the food situation in this house-"

"Marco there is no food situation!" Once again his lover ignored him and sat down at the breakfast table to eat. "Listen to me! This is because I don't have a job, is it?" You earn enough to support us both, and I'm almost finished with my studies I can get a job and-"

"No, Lyserg." Marco stood up and placed his hands on Lyserg's shoulders. "No more arguments out of you. Sit down and eat." But Lyserg would not comply.

"We don't even have any kids! It's just us Marco, just-"And that was when the other man became rigid and Lyserg felt his pulse falter. "Marco?"

He was pulled into a tight hug and released suddenly.

"I'm late, call me later."

"Marco you didn't even finish your tea. . ." But he was already out the door and in the drive way. And once again, all Lyserg could do was stand there. Stand there and watch him drive off before the school buses could interfere with his time and stand there and watch mothers put their kids on these buses, and watch the children wave and yell until out of site with his husband in the lead.


	2. Tamao, Tamao

**Only time may tell **

By Night Owl Ophelia

****

**_Disclaimer – Shaman King is not mine, Courtesy of Hiroyuki Takei and weekly Shonen Jump._**

* * *

While in bed, she was happy. Nowhere else made her feel safe and away from _him, _which was very odd because he was there with her most of the time.

Maybe it was because on that kind of occasion, she'd be unaware of his presence, which was also very odd.

She possessed a special talent, one she used very often and was extremely proud of.

Sleeping, it was something Tamao enjoyed and a method of escape from her surroundings. Her bedroom was her surroundings, and she hated it. But it doesn't really make much of any sense because she loved her bed. It was her medium of escape. With it she couldn't sleep. But that alone wasn't her talent.

When she was alone and wading in the river's bend four summers ago, she had not counted on anything happening.

The river ran through Asakura land, and since she was small there was no trouble. Since she held hands with the local children and splashed through the non threatening currents, and sometimes alone with "The Asakura boy" there was no problem. There was never really any thought to anybody harming any one in the vicinity of the Asakura land. And the adults were all just paranoid.

But that summer four years ago, she had been either fourteen or fifteen. She hadn't cared to remember, fearing she'd think about it too much. And if she thought about to much, she would never forget. It was a horrible day for her and everyone around, and her relationship with Yoh would be terribly scarred forever.

The river bended in what looked like a bowl shaped loop. The mossy green color and feel of its floor was what Tamao loved the most. She could wade in the water and brush the gentle sea moss and feel it in between her toes. On that day, she was doing just that, and the others weren't too far behind. . . .

She had come to be alone, and with Manta, and had not counted on another couple being there She remembered suddenly being willing to take up Manta's offer on tea. Somewhere warm. But they had already spent so much time on making the decision in the first place and ended up there, and much to her dismay, Tamao suddenly felt sick.

Seeing someone you deeply care about brushing the hair out of another girls face will do that to you.

Manta wasted no time in persuading her into the water. But all she could do was gently massage her feet in the river bed, and be left out of yet another conversation. It was really common for her to be left out. As much as she really did want to blame Manta, it was her suggestion to come to the river, it being her favorite place.

It was going well anyway. All she had to do was ignore them. . . .

Her steps where being wavered slightly as she decided to pursue the others who decided they wanted to play tag. Some sort of tag. She was barely by Mantas side when it happened. Yoh had reached out in the nick of time and caught her. _Her . . . _

It didn't look right to Tamao. The fall was obviously fake, and to her point of view anyway. What agitated her more was the way they clutched each other and laughed like it was all a big joke? She couldn't even decide if it made it all the more worse for Manta to laugh as well. All she really knew was that she couldn't take it anymore.

Without excusing herself, she headed farther down the river. Far away from Yoh, and Manta, and far away from Anna's larger than life aura. It made her sick.

When she felt alone walking became swimming. And then swimming became joy. It made her feel better just not to think about what had happened. She had to think about her relationship, or soon to be relationship with Manta. Their hanging together was Yoh's doing anyway, and maybe one thing might lead to another. . .

Suddenly all around Tamao seemed dark. The bank, the trees, the sky, and even the river itself had become engulfed in a new darkness. She had stopped to wonder whether she had been swimming for that long and why the others had not tried to find her. Then a new feeling had come over her. A new sense, a sense that told her she was no longer alone. But before she could react, before she could get an even tighter grip of the large rock her fingers had closed around by pure instinct. her world was shattered before her. Littered with lights and shadows of which she had never seen before, and thrown into a heated struggle for her life. One that ended in pitch black tragedy. As she felt her very being fall into the dark pit of unconsciousness she hated so much . . .


	3. Uncertain

**Only time may tell**

By Night Owl Ophelia

_**Disclaimer – Shaman King is not mine Courtesy of Hiroyuki Takei and Weekly Shonen Jump.**_

* * *

As far as Lyserg was concerned, he no longer had any friends. Or maybe the proper way to think was, he no longer thought of friends. 

He rarely cared for phone conversations, or mail, or parties. Especially surprise get togethers, as if Marco would let him do any of that anyway, but what Marco didn't know, never usually bothered him, and that was why Lyserg was actually keeping one friend in particular, Maybe because she was close, or it might be because she had no one to talk to now a days, because like Lyserg, she didn't bother with people anymore. And her husband was behind that, one hundred percent.

Lyserg packed just a few things. It wasn't like they were going on a picnic or anything. But he liked to take a little something. Just in case it cheered her up a little. But first there was the trouble with getting her out of bed, and that was why Lyserg was leaving early.

He had no school that day, and Marco wasn't home. With no interference, there was plenty of time for that. Or was there? She never told him if_ her_ husband was home. So everyday he ran a great risk just leaving the house and driving about four blocks up to her cozy estate, or should he say prison, house up in a nice looking neighborhood called "Cedar Hills Estates and housing," Fancy and nicely built where all the houses that really did stretch up hills and hills covering land. He himself lived in a place called "Glenn dales," which wasn't as fancy, but at least it was pretty. The houses he passed as he looked for hers weren't like his friends at all, they just couldn't match in his opinion, and even though they cost just as much. As he finally pulled up into her driveway, he couldn't help but think about how much Tamao had, and still she wasn't happy. Kind of like himself.

No sooner did he shut and lock his car door did one of the many servants come out and greet him. "Master Lyserg." She said, smiling. He couldn't help but notice her style and accent. _Japanese_, he noted. "The Lady cannot see you now, she is ill." Lyserg rolled his eyes.

"Glenna you know better than to lie to me, I'm sure." He said, having glanced at her name tag. "But then again, you must be new."

"Please, the Masters orders!" Glenna argued. "The lady must not-"

"It'll be all right Glenna, I promise." The servant girl shook her head and led him up the stone marble stairs and into the main hall.

Girls were everywhere, mainly dusting or unpacking things that had just arrived in the household. Lyserg was already headed up the stairs from the family room with Glenna right behind him.

"I know the way." He assured her. But she remained regardless.

The second floor hallway was littered again with more servants. These all glared at Glenna when she stepped forward. One group of males, most likely all new were the only ones who looked his way. _The husband's lackeys, _Lyserg thought to himself. He stepped along with Glenna and past the ladies who were all putting up fresh wallpaper. That was something that changed a whole lot.

The Lady's room was guarded by two sleepy looking men appointed by the Master of the house, who all the same looked very reluctant to move. But, at the sight of Glenna, and recognizing me, they gave way swiftly and handed the servant girl a key. Yes, Tamao truly was a prisoner in her own house.

The servants, the neighbors, the British embassy, and possibly Marco, all knew the lady of the house as "Tammy Gordon." Now the lady "Tammy Venecia Ashton "A Cinderella type of girl straight out of Japan, eighteen, who married into riches and never really came out of her grand house much after that. She was moved in just three years ago, by her husband, Master Haruo Okahito Ashton. And Lyserg knew of her presence for only two of those years. He had always stole a glance up Cedar Hills while on one of his many walks with Marco, and one fateful day, she had stepped outside only for a moment, Perhaps for some fresh air. She scanned the area and accidentally caught sight of Lyserg, who in turn made eye contact with her. Though she had changed so much, there was no mistaking Tamao. She was then whisked inside by a servant and Lyserg barely got the chance to see her again . . . until she called.

The room itself was dark and gloomy. Though there was something pretty, or beautiful in every corner, there was something about this room that made anyone who would enter sad.

In the very center, there was a bed. And its occupant's face was covered by hair and shadow. Her right arm rose so she can scratch her head and her left hand pointed her index at Glenna. "Who are you?" She demanded of her.

Glenna curtsied and almost bumped into Lyserg from behind. "I am Glenna Morgan Madame," She said, "Employed by your husband just this morning." A soft smile split her face.

Tamao shook for a moment, then, started to cry.

Glenna was just as puzzled as I was. "Madame, d-did I say something wrong?" She stammered.

"A Japanese, Lyserg, she's Japanese!" She cried happily. At least then, he knew she would have no problem getting out of bed.

* * *

Tamao's happiness showed in the speed it took for her took get ready. She was always very beautiful. Her hair was now waist length and her eyes appeared even sharper than how they were four years earlier. Lyserg noticed her body had matured and the features of a tired middle aged woman etched into the Tamao that sat before him now, though she must be no older than seventeen or eighteen. Her usual gloomy mood was not there today. Today she had another native of Japan with her, and that was truly more than she could ever ask for. 

As for Lyserg, he received a warm welcome from her in the form of a kiss, then a playful slap. "How dare you not come to see your lady? I was worried sick." She said, lowering herself into a chair in the dining room. She often preferred to eat outside, but was paranoid of people watching her. Glenna was asked to accompany them today, and every expression she showed was nervous. And each time Lyserg glanced at her, she looked away in terror.

"Erm, Madame, there is work to be done, and I-"

"Nonsense," Tamao, tied back her hair in a tight bun, and took her hand. "I'm the lady of this household, and when my husband is not here, my rules!" she said more cheerily than normal, which made Lyserg a little jealous, but he was happy for her none the less. And happy that Glenna would miss a day of backbreaking work, it was her first day after all.

"Lyserg and I have been meeting in secret for almost a year now," Tamao beamed, "and I can barely remember a time without him, strange isn't it?"

"Meeting together in secret?" Glenna shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Every minute away from my husband is precious." Tamao said, a little gloomy. "But there was no one I had here with me. I had no friends." Tamao tried effortlessly to smile, and Lyserg was taken aback. _That really isn't entirely true_he thought. But he and Tamao were of different lives, and she was probably going through something different. Something she wouldn't dare tell anyone. Not even him.

Lyserg rummaged around in the sack he brought along, and held out a small round package towards her.

"Oh. . . Oh! A chocolate frog," Tamao's hand closed around the small chocolate and touched Lyserg's softly. She flinched at his warmth and tried her hardest not to blush. "I haven't eaten one of these in years. . . I remember Manta gave me one."

Silence

There was a name Lyserg could tell Tamao had forgotten. Her mask had finally fallen, and she broke down. "L- Lyserg I don't wish to eat a chocolate right now. . ." Lyserg shook his head,

"Keep it, you might feel for one later."

"No! My husband always brings me-"

"Chocolate frogs?"

"Umm Madame!" Glenna stood up and bowed. "I shall fetch you some tea, you do not look well.

Tamao massaged her temples for a moment. "Thanks Glenna… Thank you."

"You're very well done!" As Glenna all but ran towards the kitchen, Lyserg took Tamao's hand and held it tight.

"She meant welcome."

"What?"

"She said you're very well done."

"Oh. . . "Then she snatched herself away. "That was very dirty Lyserg." She glared at him when a sheepish smile spread across his face.

"Tamao-"

"You remembered about that chocolate. . . I can't believe you'd-"

"Tamao, listen to me! You're never going to fully heal if you can't remember anything. . . If you can't remember your friends, if you can't leave that-"

"My place is in this house Lyserg." Tamao said calmly. "And as long as that man is alive and breathing, I have to remain here." She massaged the necklace she wore with one hand, and held her head in the other. "Make no mistake. If I leave he'll kill me."

Lyserg's entire body shook. He knew better than she did what he meant. And that was what he said. If he had said it.

"Tamao-"

"Lyserg, I probably won't live to see another day if he ever saw me touch you like this." She raised a hand to brush his left cheek. "You remember what happened. . . Just because I looked-"

"Madame!" Glenna made her way towards them, balancing a tray of food, some tea, and a phone on her head. "I have returned, and a male is on the line for you. He says he knows for a fact you have neglected to complete your full cycle of-"

"Give me that!" Tamao said viciously before she could finish. Lyserg received the phone from Glenna's head, and handed to her. "Hello? Yes. . . Yes. . . No, he isn't here right now. If it 's my business why can't you tell me?" Her face suddenly went rigid, and then she placed the phone on the table. "He hung up."

Lyserg was infuriated. "_What the hell_ was that about?" He asked.

"Something to do with me. I don't know what, but it sounds scary and . . . and . . . he just won't tell _me _he wants to talk to-"

"Bull shit on a stick," he picked up the phone. "What's his fucking number?"

Tamao blinked then reprimanded him for swearing, "What for?'

"You don't want to know what-"

"No! It's too risky Lyserg, put the phone down." Slowly, he set the phone back down and resisted the urge to pick it up again.

"I hate this Tamao-"

"Here I am Tammy Venecia Gordon Ashton. And there is nothing I can do about it." She sipped the tea in silence.

For the rest of the evening they talked with each other, as always. They watched television, always the mystery shows or something dealing with murder or homicide. And always Tamao refused to bring up the past.

Glenna had whole heartedly returned to work, but Tamao was really into finding a friend in her. Unlike the many others who reported anything she dared utter to her husband.

"You know, with Glenna, I think he actually listened to me."

"Whom," Lyserg asked a bit puzzled.

"My husband. . . I think he hired her for my best interest."

Silence

"I'm sorry, Lyserg, It's just been a long time since I've laid eyes on the Japanese." Tamao rested her head on Lyserg's shoulder and sighed just as a yelping man was scalded to death in his own shower. "Just who writes these things nowadays? Scalded to death in the shower? Please. . ." Lyserg glanced at the clock above a fireplace nearest to the exit. It was nearly two hours till Marco got off of work, then another two hours till he could make it home. Three if Lyserg asked him to pick up something. He would have liked to spend a little more time with Tamao, but he had not yet prepared anything for his husband to eat. And he knew how Marco would not like waiting.

"Tamao, I really have to be going. Its way past three, and-"

"No matter, go now Lyserg. I wouldn't want you to keep Marco waiting."

Silence

"I don't want to leave you Tamao."

"It's Tammy."

* * *

Lyserg pulled out of the drive way, slowly. Still reluctant to leave Tamao in her dark and lonely prison, But Haruo was almost home, and would take Lyserg a lot of guts to want to meet him. As he drove away from the house, he stuck a hand out of the window and waved, knowing Tamao must see him, though she herself was well hidden, he knew she was watching. 

End

Meanwhile in Japan. . .

The morning's rays came flooding through my window. It was barely before six, but I had work to do. I dragged myself out of bed, made it up real nice so mom wouldn't have to yell at me, nearly tripped over my uncle in the hall, but made it out nice and safe without waking him. As I walked through the corridors, I could hear my parents arguing in their room again. I felt sad cuz they always did that, and this time, I decided I was not going to barge in there and cry just to make them stop. I'd clean up the house really, really nice. Because I heard clean makes people happy. I told my uncle what I was going to do, and he said that I was really little, and probably couldn't do it. Then I said, no I think I can handle it. Really!

I thought when I made my parents happy, it'll make them realize they really didn't make a mistake adopting me, but maybe I really am not why their so sad. Maybe my parents would have like a girl maybe? Or maybe they just didn't like each other. Then I stopped and wondered if I was right. What if they really didn't like each other? Then I started crying again, and that's all I can remember because then I got in an accident.

**Thats it for now. Read and enjoy -**


End file.
